Ignited Flames
by pgeek331
Summary: The war was lost and Voldemort reigns. Severus is now placed with Harry, who is to carry Voldemort's heir, after the boy's capture. How will the previous Potions Master of Hogwarts continue to perform for his master while having the distraction of living with the former leader of the resistance? HP/SS, LM/LV pairing. **Contains SLASH & eventual MPREG**
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Hogwarts castle is quiet. All of its once previous occupants, gone. This is the aftereffects of The War, The Lost War. Dumbledore is dead. The leaders of the light, destroyed. All that is left is the small resistance… but tonight that will follow in destruction as well.

Only one light burns within the darkened castle. Deep within the dungeons, the Potions Master works vigorously. Unlike the rest of the ancient building, this small place stills houses a tenant.

Shifting from one cauldron to the next, Severus Snape expertly adds ingredients of all kinds to the bubbling, steaming contents. His skin, pale from unseen sunlight, stands out among his dark black attire. Sweat beads rest upon his forehead. Brushing them away with the side of his arm, they disappear within the mass of slick black hair.

"Ahhh!"

Severus drops a bottle. Crashing to the floor, its contents splatter over the cold stone. Groaning, he clutches at his left arm. Beneath his sleeve, the Dark Mark burns. Pain emanates from it, signifying his masters inpatients. Pushing aside his discomfort, Severus snatches another vial from the stocks cabinet at the far end of his lab. Hastily stirring the potion in a counterclockwise fashion, he waits until the liquid turns a light shad of green. _It's done._

Severus reaches for an empty vial, pouring the newly created concoction into it. Holding it firmly in hand, he swiftly walks to his adjacent quarters. His room is orderly, every possession in its marked place. One would suspect the Potions Master's living quarters to be dark, dreary, uninviting. This however, is not the case. A light color of taupe paints the walls accented by deep Slytherin-green curtains. Walking to _his_ chair situated next to the bookcase overflowing with bounded books old and new, he takes his outer cloak resting upon its tall back.

Sliding each arm though the sleeves, Severus carefully places the small potion vial deep within the cloak's pocket for safe keeping. He strides over to the well-used fireplace, taking a handful of floo power. Throwing it into the grate, Severus's steady voice speaks his desired location.

"Malfoy Manor"

As he steps into the large green flames that engulf him, the once most feared Professor by students instantly disappears.

0o0o0

"My Lord, it is completed."

"Bring it here, Severus."

The dark haired wizard leaves his kneeling position, carefully walking to Voldemort. The Dark Lord sits upon his throne, lazily toying with his wand between his long withered fingers. Situated to the right side of him is Lucius. The blonde has his usual smug smile, deep desire to please his lord evident to everyone.

Standing before his master, Severus slowly reaches into his pocket. Grasping the completed potion gently in his callused hand, he slowly hands it over. Voldemort's ruby eyes glint as he appreciates the vials contents.

"You have done well, Severus. For your devotion to my cause, you will be heavily rewarded."

The old Professor exhales deeply, unaware he was holding his breath. "Thank you, my Lord."

Being waved to the Dark Lord's other side, Severus hastily moves. Relieved that the immense stress looming over him this past month is finally gone, he stands silently next to the large golden throne as Voldemort addresses the mass of Death Eaters within the hall. Anticipation among everyone is great.

"Many of you are aware the last resistance has finally been taken by us. We now have full control over Great Britain."

Cheers break out among the crowd as the Dark Lord pauses. Silence falls again as he raises his hands in attention. Voldemort's voice rings throughout the room once again. His power is eminent as he takes control of the entire room.

"At this time, let us bring out our guests. Shall we?"

All eyes turn to the large metal doors framed on the entry wall. As if on cue, the large structures begin to open, allowing the persons behind them entry. Two dark-cloaked Death Eater's lead a group of struggling captives into the large hall as two follow from behind. The captives are led by chains latched to their ankles, wrists, and necks. Clapping, cheers, and laughs fill the room as the sea of followers celebrate their victory.

Severus's attention is drawn from the booming noise as he notices the familiar brown haired child. Harry Potter, unlike his comrades, hangs his head, avoiding eye contact from the onlookers. He slowly follows the tugs from the chains, not by any means trying to defy the leaders. Squinting to have a better look, Severus takes in the boys appearance. Harry's cloths, or what used to be classified as cloths, are ripped and torn. Appearing to be more like rages, the disheveled clothing shows the boys marked skin that is covered in bruises and blood, both dried and wet.

When the group of prisoners are unceremoniously yanked onto the floor, silence falls. Turning his head slightly to look at his master, Severus notes the large smirk and glint of triumph plastered upon his face. He waits for Voldemort to speak. Only the sounds of struggling as the heavy metal chains clank together resonates around the room. Finally, he begins.

"What a pleasure of all of you to finally join us."

The Dark Lord watches intently as the chained group before him yell out profanities, cursing his reign. He ignores their outbursts, too curious at the raven haired boy before him. The leader of the rebels has yet raised his gaze from the floor. He sits passively on his knees, no means of trying to escape. No sound leaves his chapped lips.

Voldemort stands. Leaving the confounds of his throne, he moves forward towards impassive Boy Who Lived. His wand rests under the boys chin, lifting his head up. Once bright green eyes are now dull and faded. They hazily gaze at the dark wizard, vacant of expression, of passion.

Severus watches Voldemort examine the boy. Ever since meeting Potter, he has despised the insufferable Gryffindor. Now however, a small twinge of concern for the boy fills him. Despite this newfound feeling, Severus remains in his place. Standing by the empty throne opposite of Lucius, he continues to watch his Lord. In a swift move, Voldemort directs his wand on the famous Gryffindor.

"Crucio"

Potter falls forward from his knees onto the hard stone floor. Blood stains the cold floor beneath him from his impact, nose obviously broken. His body convulses under the curses power. His muscles contort by the spasms, moving in random directions. Severus couldn't help but be impressed by the boy. Throughout the minutes of continuous torture, Harry hadn't let out any cries of distress. The only marker that showed the boy to be alive was the silent tears spilling from his dull eyes.

Finally, Voldemort lifts the curse. He silences the shouts from the other rebels as he makes his leave back to his seat. No doubt by his expression, the Dark Lord was disappointed by the boys lack of willpower.

"Take them away, back to the dungeons. However, isolate Potter… I have plans for him."

The four lower ranked Death Eaters grab the chains once more, leading the struggling party back out of the hall. Whispers and muttering follow them as the mass of onlookers watch the prisoners depart.

Softly speaking, Voldemort beckons him forward with his hand. "Severus"

Stepping closer to his master, the Potions Master leans forward. "Yes, my Lord?"

"The boy is yours, my gift to you."

Taken aback by this surprising notion, Severus's heartbeat quickens beneath his robes. "My Lord?"

Voldemort ignores his follower's question and stands up once more. Turning to face his loyal follower, he addresses him for the last time this evening.

"Use him well."

With that, the Dark Lord vanishes on the spot.

**Hope you liked the first chapter! I have written another story as well called The New Consort. It's on my page if you're interested in Voldemort/Harry pairings. Until next time…**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Severus blindly makes his way out of the hall. All that circles around in his mind concerns the boy. His sickly appearance, his growth, his lack of fire that once blazed in those famous green eyes. _What happened to him? Why must I now be responsible for the insufferable brat?_

Pushing past the crowds of Death Eaters, he reaches the familiar fireplace that brought him to the manor. If he is to be honest with himself, Severus's loathing towards the boy may have turned slightly. Yes, he finds having ownership over Potter to be an uninviting burden, but something within his consciousness is eager to collect the child.

The Potions Master silently passes those already in line to floo. They allow him forward, no one daring to offend one of the Dark Lord's most valued servants. As he throws the powder once more into the flames stepping in, he clears his mind. One particular thought above all the rest flashes behind those closed eyelids of his.

_Home._

0o0o0

Within the dark shadows, Harry curls himself in a ball. Arms displaying large cuts and gashes pull his feeble, skinny legs tightly to his torso. He remains silent. No sound has yet left the Gryffindor since his rebel camp was destroyed, since Sirius lay dead at his feet. Any guards passing by would not notice this broken boy huddled within the darkness of the cell.

Only when Harry feels piercing eyes upon him, does he look up. Voldemort stands before him, just close enough that the bottom hem of the wizards robes lightly brush against him. The dark wizard does not make a move. He only observes the frail boy at his feet. The two enemies stare at one another as time slowly passes on. Only when footsteps can be heard coming from the corridor, does Harry drop his gaze once more upon the floor, unaware of the looming potions vial Voldemort has pulled out from beneath his robes.

0o0o0

Stepping out of the dying green flames, Severus meticulously scourgifys the ash and soot off that covers his cloak. After deeming his attire clean, he retires to his bedroom. Placing his robes back within the closet, Severus takes his folded and pressed pajamas into the adjoining master bathroom. Slate tile floor begins at the doors entrance and expands throughout the entire room. Two deep sinks inwardly dip from a thick white marble slab. Mounted on the wall above, a large mirror stretches from one end of the counter to the next.

Placing his garments on the clean marble counter, the accomplished Death Eater starts his bath. Having a recluse personality such as his own, Severus has had no desire to acquire household help. That is, until recently…particularly this past evening. Shutting the water off once the clawed bathtub has filled with the perfumed soapy liquid, Severus steps in. He slowly sinks below the surface, the warm water restricting the air from further contact with his skin. Holding his breath for as long as possible, the previous Professor pictures the one thing that all encompasses his thoughts, the boy. Like watching a film, Severus flips through one encounter with Potter to the next. Each one is brief, short, seemingly unimportant. _Then, why do I suddenly care?_

Lungs finally straining for oxygen, Severus breaks the surface, gulping for air. Catching his breath, he relaxes his white fleshed back against the side of the tub. Suddenly, something gains his attention…his straining member. Pulsing blood maneuvers to his pole that has long since seen the light of pleasure. He watches as it becomes more stiff, erect. Temptation consumes him. All he wants is to meet completion. With the image of Harry's face once unmarked and full of life, determination, Severus lowers his hand. The intention: to achieve release.

Stroking his erection, Severus's breath begins to quicken. He imagines the boy beneath him, calling out his name as he reaches climax. Severus's sweaty body continuously plowing into the smaller Gryffindor, their skin rubbing against one another from the shear friction of coitus.

_Stop!_

Just as quickly as it had started, the Death Eater pulls his hand away from his pulsing cock. _What is wrong with me? He is just a boy and I, just over 20 years his senior. _Grudgingly, Severus steps out of the warm tub, his member still at attention. Walking to the shower, he turns on the water and gets in. Cold streams run down his toned body. Grinding his teeth together, the Potions Master wills for his sexual need to withdraw.

0o0o0

"Ah, Severus. I take it you have come for the boy?"

Voldemort sits outside within the greenhouse. The sun beams down through the building of windows, its rays lightly kissing the skin of those present. Severus stands straight and tall in his normal fashion. His expression is one of a mystery to those who do not know the wizard well. It is tight, muscles firm that stretch his mouth into a thin line.

"Yes, my Lord. That is, if it is acceptable."

The Dark Lord smiles. His facial features twist in ways that are not meant to be wound. In fact, the friendly gesture is rather chilling. Severus holds himself together though, not allowing the shock from Voldemort's outward happiness to be noticed. Not offering his loyal follower a seat, the dark leader replies.

"Have Draco accompany you to the cellar. He will assist in bringing Potter back with you to the school, or shall I say, the ruins once considered a school."

Lightly laughing to himself, the Dark Lord turns away, lifting the Dailey Prophet back into his line of vision. Ever since The War began, Severus had by all means avoided reading the Prophet. It never felt like news to him, only pages filled with death and disaster. To him, it resembled more of a list of the dead.

Bowing slightly, Severus makes his leave. Just before he reaches the door to exit, Voldemort speaks once more.

"As I said earlier Severus, use the boy well. It may seem he is defeated, but there is no harm in _breaking_ him in."

Giving a curt nod to his master to show he heard, the Potions Master leaves. He turns down the hall knowing full well where his Godson will be. Having been a guest within Malfoy Manor on countless occasions, Severus is acquainted with every wing that makes up the expansive estate. Taking a turn here and there, the familiar high hallways stretch far, leading him further into the depths of the manor. Reaching a door situated at the end of the second floor corridor, Severus knocks. Abruptly, the door opens revealing the young Malfoy heir.

"Good afternoon, Draco."

Looking surprised to see his Godfather at his door, Malfoy quickly shuffles out of his room, passing Severus. Flustered, he closes the large door behind him and addresses the calm and collected Potions Master.

"Why are you here?" He mutters, eyes adverted shamefully to the side.

Severus studies the boy, unsure as to what put him in such an awkward mood. He clears his throat, willing himself to remain unattached and cold.

"The Dark Lord volunteered your assistance. I am to collect the Potter boy and bring him to my quarters."

Draco's head suddenly snaps up, his eyes glinting in shock. "Uncle, what—"

Severus raises his hand to silence the blonde. Taking a step, he begins to make his way down the corridor. Malfoy wordlessly follows in his wake. They continue to the dungeons, both wizards avoiding looking at one another. After passing a large bust statue of a Malfoy ancestor, they reach the entrance leading to the cells. Taking hold of the black iron knob, Severus opens the door, allowing Draco to lead the remainder of the way. They quickly pass one cell after the next, knowing full well Potter to be placed in the isolation ward located at the end of the chamber. The two Death Eater's boots clank upon the old stone floor. The sound reverberates off the narrow passageway, stirring other prisoners to awaken. Shouts and cries begin to swarm around the two wizards in black. They however, ignore the pleas, only set on reaching their destination.

The cell door, built within the stone walls at the end of the dungeon, sits securely in place. Reaching for his wand, Draco steps forward, tracing it's tip over the doors lock. Muttering an incantation under his breath, the cell clicks open. Soundlessly, Severus pushes Draco to the side, passing the smaller wizard as he enters the room. At first, his eyes adjust to the darkness as no candles adorn the cell. After a moment of glancing around, Severus makes out a small figure curled in fetal position on the soiled floor.

"Potter?"

There is no reply. Stepping forward, the Death Eater crouches down beside the filthy Gryffindor. Waving his wand over the trembling figure, Severus checks his vitals. They are considerably weak, the boy floating between consciousness. Behind him, a quiet voice whispers, softly.

"Is he alive?"

The trusted servant ignores Malfoy's question. Casting a quick levitation charm on the feeble boy, Severus finally faces Draco once more. They exchange worried glances before curtly proceeding to leave the cell. Hurriedly, the two Death Eaters and the floating body of the Chosen One make their way out from the depths of the cold and dismal dungeon.

Reaching the fire grate, Severus hastily takes the powder and throws it into the flames. Not glancing at the floating body beside him for fear he may be sick, the older man instructs Draco. His is assertive, curt.

"I will floo to Hogwarts first and prepare my bed. In the next minute, bring Potter with you. Understood?"

Draco hesitantly nods. Wasting no further time on the matter, Severus disappears within the flames. Waiting a minute as he was instructed, Draco takes in a deep breath before levitating Potter into the flames alongside him. Voicing the quarters of his Godfather's, the two previous students of Hogwarts vanish.

None could possibly know what changes lay in store for them, all of which surround the Potter boy.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Carefully stepping out of the fireplace, Draco slowly directs the levitating figure behind him as he makes his way towards Severus's bedroom. The Malfoy heir has avoided looking at his previous classmate, unsure as to whether it is out of spite or something much deeper. _Concern __perhaps?_

Passing through the Potions Master's study, Draco glances around. He has not been in his Godfathers quarters since last attending Hogwarts. And that, was roughly five years ago. Appreciating the tidiness of his uncle, Draco swiftly looks around. This place, though located within the depths of the castle, always felt like home to him. On several occasions when he was distraught and lost between what was right and what his parents wanted of him, Severus willing invited him in. He always offered an ear and guidance that many could not give. Especially, concerning his particular circumstances as a newly appointed Death Eater.

As Draco continues to direct Harry's seemingly unconscious body after him, a low moan escapes the Gryffindor's swollen lips. Startled, Draco jumps, almost losing control over the floating figure. Fixing himself, the Malfoy manages to right his mistake just before Harry plummets to the floor. _That was close. Uncle Severus would have killed me__…_

He quickens his pace as the bedroom entrance comes into sight. As he reaches the cracked door, behind it, muttering can be heard along with a faint ripping sound. Daring to take a quick glance at Potter before entering, Malfoy surveys the boys damage. The frail figure, once unconscious and still, now trembles uncontrollably. His eyes are tightly shut, closing himself off from the world. The boy's face is full of anguish as his jaw is tightly clenched, sweat beading down his forehead. As a loud cry leaves him, Draco hastily turns around again, opening the door the remainder of the way.

He walks in as Severus continues to prepare the bed. Blankets are half torn from the bed frame, partially lying on the dark slate ground. Severus continues his work, placing towels over the mattress. After covering the remaining surface, the loyal Death Eater looks up. Shoulder length hair covers his face, obstructing it from view. Taking his hand, Severus brushes the long black strands away. Surprised, Draco takes an intake of breath. Never has he seen such emotion blatantly displayed on his Godfather's face. The Potions Master looks grave. His skin paler than usual and his beaded eyes wild with fear are clearly noticeable to any onlooker. A vulnerability about the older wizard is evident. However, after another moment of exchanged glances, the silence is broken by a raspy voice.

"Could you have taken any longer?"

Severus's expression is once again blank, such as expected from a wizard highly skilled in occlumency. Ignoring the snide remark targeting him, Draco quickly moves forward, levitating Potter to rest upon the bed. They watch as the Gryffindor's body thrashes around, his cries becoming louder and more persistent.

"What's wrong with him?" Draco asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

Severus ignores his Godson's question as he does too often. In reply, he instructs the blonde to retrieve a calming drought and dreamless sleep potion from his lab, located down the hall. Alone with the Boy Who Lived, the old wizard takes a deep breath as he surveys the pain driven boy. Speaking more to himself than the unaware figure before him, Severus swiftly pushes up his sleeves.

"Let us begin, shall we Potter?"

As expected, there was no reply, only earnest cries. Pushing back any feelings both directed in positive and negative lights, the Death Eater begins his work. His well-used hands expertly feel over the boy's body, looking for broken bones. As expected, three ribs are cracked. Taking his wand that lay resting on the bedside table, Severus points it at Harry's chest.

"Brackium Emendo"

Harry yells at the sudden shock of his targeted ribs adjusting themselves. Mere seconds later, Draco barges into the bedroom, most probably due to the deafening cry of anguish. The shear volume of the vocalization seemed to have reverberated throughout the entire vacant castle.

"What happened?"

Though dry and emotionless as it was, for once, Severus responded.

"I merely used a charm that healed Potter's broken ribs. By his reaction however, there is a possibility of internal bleeding."

The last words passing his lips finally began to sink in. Internally, Severus's chest tightened as panic arisen from within. _Potter can't- die, I will not allow it!_

Becoming somewhat frantic, the Potions Master pushes past Draco. Running into the hall, he makes a bee-line for his potions stock. The large cabinet creeks loudly as the door is flung open wide. Swiftly gazing over the storage's concoctions, Severus grabs for the intended potion. With it in hand, his dark robes billow behind his quick strides back towards where Potter lay. All the while, the cries and yells pound against his eardrum.

Uncorking the bottle, Severus carefully lowers it to Harry's lips. Tilting it slightly, the vials contents slowly pour into the gaping open mouth. Hastily plugging the boy's nose, the Professor watches intently as the potion is swallowed.

Satisfied, Severus places the empty bottle on the bedside table. Holding out his empty hand, he sternly addresses his Godson.

"Draco, the calming drought and dreamless sleeping potion."

The young Slytherin hesitantly steps forward, his eyes locked onto the gasping and trembling body lying upon the bed. Impatient, Severus snatches the potions from Draco's outstretched hand. As he turns toward his new ward once more, he speaks.

"You may go."

A pleading voice follows. "But Uncle, I-"

"Leave!"

Severus waits until he hears his Godson's departure. When the bedroom door clicks from behind him, the Potions Master surveys Harry for the second time that night. Easily visible since the boy's shirt was cast away, his chest rapidly rises from shallow breaths. Dried dark blood, stains the youth's skin from cuts covering his entire flesh. Bruises every color are found over his entire body. Moving his gaze to Harry's face, distress is evident. His eyes are tightly shut, never having opened the entire night. His facial muscles have remained strained and tight causing his forehead to wrinkle.

With another sob leaving the boy's lips, Severus rights himself. Taking the two potions Draco has fetched him, the Death Eater forces them down the unwilling boy's throat. Severus watches the instant effects of the potions as Harry's body finally stills. The muscles cascading down and around the Gryffindor have relaxed, making his body sink into the soft mattress. His cries have quieted as even breathing take over, bringing the figure into dreamless unconsciousness.

Sitting on the end of the bed, Severus watches his new ward drift to sleep. After the strain of the nights events, he can't help the swarm of worries and thoughts bombard his mind.

Now, knowing full to well the potion he created for the Dark lord was given to the boy, Severus leans forward, soothingly caressing the sleeping Gryffindor's cheek.

"Oh Potter, what am I to do with you now?"

**Let me know what you guys think so far! Would like any suggestions if you have them. (And I promise Harry will wake up next chapter :))**


	4. Chapter 4

_Thoughts_

Chapter 4

Darkness. All consuming black is what Harry first experiences when he awakens. There is no light, no shadows or shapes that are depicted. Just dense blackness. Not knowing if he is alone, he stays still, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Blinking, he feels his eyes open, but wherever he was or whatever happened to him, his vision is gone.

As he lays still, engulfed in warmth given by the blankets placed over him, the Gryffindor assesses the situation. _First off, where am I exactly? _Harry pushes his palms into the mattress, feeling the springs give in some. Moving his fingers slowly along the sheets helm, he can tell they are made of high quality cotton. _Well for one thing, this is definitely not Voldemort's dungeons. _

He listens intently to his surroundings. There is no noise, only a heavy silence. Deciding for now he was safe and alone, the boy sank further into the warmness, thinking. The fogginess and haze surrounding Harry's consciousness seemed to dissolve. His thoughts and recollections of the days previous, are now easily accessible. However, there are many missing gaps. His last memory is being crouched in Voldemort's dungeons, forced to drink an unknown potion. Then, excruciating pain coming from within him. No doubt, a consequence from the mystery draft. Following that, there was torture.

Suddenly, a smooth deep voice brings him back from his thoughts. The voice seems familiar, but Harry can't place who the owner is. It is calculating, the speaker one that is highly educated, self-controlled.

"You are awake."

On instinct, he clutches the blankets in his fists. _Well that is quite obvious, _Harry thinks. Unsure as to how to proceed, silence settles between the two wizards. Reluctantly, Harry comes to a decision. _I guess I should probably speak. _However, only a mumble is produced.

Severus looks at the boy, surprised he is not being bombarded with questions, with defiance. The Gryffindor just lays before him, clutching the blankets tightly as he turns his head away. The Death Eater clears his throat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that last bit." Severus says, smugly.

He pauses, waiting for Potter to speak. There is no reply.

Sighing, Severus takes a seat in the chair positioned next to the bed. He angles it slightly, wanting a better view of Potter laying beneath the blankets. As time slowly passes, they remain in silence, Harry still turned away from the wizard, unaware Severus's eyes continue to be glued on him. Shifting slightly, Harry tries to sleep. With all of his effort, he is still unable to succumb to unconsciousness that would free him from his thoughts. Giving up his effort, the boy turns back towards where the familiar voice had come from, where even breathing can be heard.

Voice cracking, Harry finally speaks.

"Where am I? Why can't I see anything?"

Harry waits for the wizard to respond. After a moment, he hears a body shifting. Breath quickening, the Gryffindor tenses, waiting to be attacked. Nothing happens. That is, until suddenly Harry gains his sight back, only to look up into the eyes of Professor Snape leaning over him.

Among the swarm of feelings, an image of his last encounter with the Potions Master is jogged forth. This memory has stayed and will forever remain in his mind. He had called Snape for help, thinking then the Professor was on their side. How they were wrong. Snape had come, beckoned by their calls. He had crouched down, Professor Mcgonagall laying on the grass. The witch was having difficulty breathing after an unknown Death Eater had hit her with a curse. All of us had thought Snape would help, give her a potion, but no. He had raised his wand, killing her on the spot.

Now, being able to match the face to the voice, it makes complete sense. However, he can't help but to be stunned. He had known since that night, his old Professor's true loyalties had been with Voldemort but seeing him now, it rather confused him. Voldemort had him in his grasp, why had he not killed Harry? And why is he now with Snape?

Harry, overcome with questions and emotions, begins to withdraw from the situation. It was one thing to be strong and involved in the past, but now that everything Harry has worked to preserve is destroyed, why bother?

Seeing Harry becoming overwhelmed, Severus takes a step back from the bed, giving the boy space to breath. Adjusting his robes, the Potions Master steadily addresses his previous student.

"For now, rest."

He turns quickly on his heels, leaving his bedroom Potter, for now, resides in. Harry watches the Death Eater's departure, confused as to why he is not being beaten, tortured, killed. Alone again, the boy closes his eyes as exhaustion finally takes him.

0o0o0

The two wizards sit at a small wooden table. Severus's quarters, though small, house many rooms including its own kitchen. The room is quiet, Harry rigid and still in his chair and Severus idly reading the Dailey Prophet.

Harry continues to cast his gaze downwards, avoiding looking at his old Professor. He picks at his green beans, not eating much of anything on the dinner plate.

"Eat, Potter."

Startled by the deep voice, Harry looks up. Severus's line of sight is still upon the paper held in front of him. The boy quietly places his utensils down, knowing full well he would not be able to keep down any food by the way his stomach is painfully twisting. Hearing the clanking of silverware, the Potions Master looks up. Taking a deep breath to bring forth his lost courage, Harry speaks.

"There was a potion that was given to me. What was it?"

Severus, surprised by the boys question, puts the Prophet down. As the paper rests folded on the table, the Death Eater leans forward in his chair, eyeing the boy before him. Harry skin is pale, his eyes sunken in their sockets due to lack of nourishment, sleep. He is frail, much more so than when he had first come to Hogwarts as a child.

Severus smoothly responds. "Yes, I had figured as much."

Harry shifts uncomfortably in his chair. Confermation that what happened wasn't of his own invention, painfully sank in. "Well, what potion was it?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Death Eater mentally puts together his explanation before steadily beginning. "This said potion was of my own creation. I had worked on developing it for many months upon the order of the Dark Lord. The purpose of the potion is to allow the consumer, specifically male consumer, the ability to produce and carry offspring once coitus transpired.

Upon hearing Snape say the last bit, Harry felt suddenly sick. Pushing his chair back, he made a run for the hall bathroom. Making it there just in time, the boy chucked up the small remains within his stomach. Once the dry heaving subsided, Harry went to the sink. He splashed some water on his face and rinsed his mouth. Severus watched as he walked back into the kitchen, taking a seat. They stared at one another before Harry asked the looming question within the room.

"Why would Voldemort give me such a thing? I thought he wanted me dead. Not the carrier of a child."

Taking a large sip of tea placed in front of him, Severus contemplates the all-consuming question that has bothered him these past two days.

"I believe the Dark Lord has chosen you as the only one worthy of producing his heir. I base this on the fact that you hold a part of his soul within you, as you are aware of already."

Dumbfounded, the Gryffindor tightly clutches his hands together in his lap. Never had he thought he would birth a child. Even the thought was ridiculous, unimaginable.

As Severus stood to leave, Harry hurriedly asked him one more question that night.

"If you presume I am to carry Voldemort's heir at one point, why am I placed with you?"

The Death Eater contemplations this.

"I do not know, Potter."


	5. Chapter 5

**IMPORTANT A/N: Ok, guys. After the chapter, please leave a review on who you would like the father of Harry's child to be. I'm in between either Severus, Voldemort or Draco at the moment so please vote. Letting you know, whoever the father is, the child will still be under Voldemort's control. Thanks for your help! :D**

Chapter 5

It is well into the late hours of the night . A dim light illuminates the pages set before Severus. Fire flickering as it burns within the grate, the man leans back in his chair. He has yet to turn a page in the book resting on his lap. Instead, his gaze is elsewhere, looking off into the unknown distance. It was one thing to be given possession of the now sleeping boy in his quarters, but what was his masters reasoning behind such a gesture? Known for his critical thinking, Severus was still unable to put all the pieces together.

Sighing, the wizard rubs his drooping eyes as he begins to nod off. He shifts in his chair, closing the untouched book and placing it gently on the side table. The fire burning next to him was warm considering the cold and dampness of the Hogwarts dungeons. He summoned a blanket as he sank further into the comfort of the chair. Ordering Potter to sleep in his bedroom for the night until the boy was completely healed, Severus was forced to reside in the living room. He pulled the blanket up to his chin, propping his feet up on the foot cushion before closing his bloodshot eyes. Being lenient with Potter would quickly raise suspicion and the last thing he needed was the Dark Lord becoming aware of his blooming interest in the chosen boy. As he slowly drifted off, Severus made a point to set the rules and boundaries Harry is to follow to start tomorrow. Being lenient with Potter would quickly raise suspicion and the last thing he needed was the Dark Lord becoming aware of his blooming interest in the chosen boy.

0o0o0

Voldemort stands by a large window, patiently looking out into the clear night sky. He is currently in the house of the Malfoy's, waiting for an elf to call for Lucius's presence. As he turns away from the window, he surveys the luxurious sitting room. The Malfoy's have always blatantly shown their wealth by the rare and intriguing possessions that fill the manor. Red glinting eyes scanning around, Voldemort glides to a desk situated in the corner of the room. Picking up a gold figurine in the shape of a serpent, the Dark Lord scoffs, muttering under his breath.

"What pointless trinkets this family gathers…"

Behind him, the door pushes open. Narcissa hurriedly walks in, her dress elegantly flowing in her wake. Her blonde hair is pinned neatly in a bun, bangs perfectly straight resting on her forehead. The only element that ruins her put together facade is the worriedness in her eyes. Reaching near where the Dark Lord is turned, the witch bows, speaking behind him.

"My Lord. How nice of you to grace us with your presence, though unexpected as it was in this late evening. Lucius will be down any moment. Can I fetch you any tea?"

Placing the gold object back onto the desk, Voldemort turns. He eyes the women standing before him. Even before his downfall with the baby Potter and had lost his physical form, he had known the Malfoys for many years. Though too flashy for his taste, Voldemort has always had their support both financially and politically. Not to mention, all the men within the Malfoy line have been marked to serve him. No, he could not complain of their loyalty to him, especially now that all of Britain is under his control.

"Yes, Narcissa. That would be lovely."

Striding past her, Voldemort sits down on one of the two cushioned chairs. He stretches out his legs, patiently waiting for the tea Narcissa has just summoned. Wand between his fingers, he twirls it lazily out of habit as he watches the witch. After the house elf departed to fetch the drinks, she seemed out of place. Not knowing what to do, Narcissa spoke, eyes casted down to the ground.

"Let me go see what is taking Lucius."

Voldemort continues to stare at her, his eyes flashing with amusement by her submission towards him.

"Now Narcissa, I find that unnecessary." He motions to the couch positioned next to his chair. "Please, take a seat and join me while I wait."

0o0o0

Cold air washes over his exposed chest as the bed sheets are ripped from on top of him. Scrabbling up, Harry hugs his arms around himself, seeking warmth. Severus lowers his wand, satisfied his wakeup call was sufficient enough to get the brats attention. Putting his wand back within his pressed robes, the Death Eater address the half dazed boy.

"Get up, Potter. I will not have you waste the day away when there is work to be done."

Just as Severus turns to leave, he glances over Potter's uncovered torso. The boy's skin is pale, though more tan than his own. Lean from the lack of nutrition due to these last few years on the run, Potter still has obvious muscle tone, giving his body definition. _No doubt from all the years playing quidditch. _Severus, thought. Catching himself from appreciating more of the Gryffindor's physical attributes, the Potions Master swiftly makes his leave, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Stretching, Harry slowly places his feet on the cold stone floor. More shivers are sent up his spine at the abrupt temperature change in his toes. Quickly pushing away the blankets that wrap around his waist, Harry heads straight towards the nearest door. Pushing it open, he is greeted with an impressive sight. The bathroom is huge. Eyes wide, he walks in, shutting the door behind him. The first thing the Gryffindor notices is the floor tile is heated, thawing his frozen toes. Sighing in appreciation, he moves further into the room. The shower is massive. Harry wouldn't be surprised if it could hold four people at once. Leaning inside the glass frame, he turns on the water.

Getting out of the shower, Harry's wet body drips water along the floor as he hastily tries to find the linen closet. That accomplished, he dries his body off and wraps the fluffy gray towel around his waist. Grabbing another towel, the boy gets on his knees, soaking up the wet trail he had made earlier. He could tell by the short amount of time being in Severus's quarters, that the man was a neat freak. Satisfied that everything was back in its place, Harry walked back into the bedroom. Severus must have returned to the room while he was in the shower. The bed was made and lying on top of it were robes. _Must be meant for me. _Harry, reasoned.

Dressing quickly, Harry brushed his messy shoulder length hair out of his eyes as he walked down the hallway. Smelling eggs, he headed to the kitchen. Severus was washing a pan in the sink, back turned away from him. Not knowing what to do, Harry cleared his throat. Severus didn't turn around, addressing the boy as he continued to clean.

"I will let you off the hook today Potter but the remainder of your stay here, you are expected to be ready in a more appropriate time."

Not knowing how to respond to this, Harry continued to awkwardly stand in place. Severus continued after a long pause.

"Sit. There are leftover eggs and toast on the table."

Harry mumbled his gratitude, taking a seat in the same chair he sat at for last night's dinner. He tentatively spooned some eggs on the empty plate in front of him. After taking a few bits that were surprising tasty, he nibbled on a piece of toast. He continued to watch his old Professor tidying up the kitchen from breakfast. Taking a sip of water, Harry spoke.

"Do I get my wand back?" He asked.

Harry got a flat reply in return. "No."

He expected this, but didn't see any harm in asking anyway. Though Severus was a Death Eater and had killed many people, including ones Harry had known and loved, he seemed to be the least crazy and impulse driven wizard of Voldemort's lot.

Once the pan and dishes were cleaned, Severus sat down at the kitchen table, facing Harry.

"We need to discuss a few things." Severus stated. He waited for Harry to nod before continuing.

"I have rules and boundaries marked out that you are expected to follow." "Yes, Potter. You will obey them or will face punishment by my hand." He added, seeing the boy sink into his chair, looking agitated. He couldn't help but notice the way Potter's lips pouted, lightly pink and plump, waiting for him to claim them. Grunting, Severus snapped himself from his daze. _I need to be firm with him. I can't let Potter get to me. _

"As I was saying, there will be consequences when rules are not followed, when direct orders are not completed. You were given to me by the Dark Lord and I shall use you as I see fit." He coolly stated.

At that last bit, Harry lowered his gaze. Depression swarmed over him, into his core. How stupid of him to forget his place in this new world. Of course his is considered mere property. Why would his old Professor that had hated him from their first encounter, see him any differently? And to add to all of this, he will later be forced to provide Voldemort's heir. Things could not get any worse.

Defeated with no positive thought in sight, Harry allowed the tears to spill out. They have been suppressed for so long that stopping them now, would be a futile attempt.

Severus watch Potter lose himself, his control. Guilt had stricken within him. As the Death Eater contemplated on what to do, he noticed the fire in the sitting room burn brightly. Standing up, he strode past his ward. The fire blazed before a letter had flown out from the flames. Catching the parchment in midair, Severus turned it over. The Malfoy crest was pressed into the wax seal. Fingers fumbling to open the letter, Severus's mind raced. Upon opening it, only two lines covered the bare page.

_The Dark Lord is requesting your immediate presence._

_Lucius_

Crumpling up the letter summoning him, Severus threw it into the dying flames. He made his way hastily back into the kitchen, stopping beside the crumpled form the boy still sitting in his chair.

"I am needed elsewhere. There are wards set around my entire quarters, preventing your escape. Do not test me, boy."

As he grabbed his outer cloak, he addressed Potter once more before departing.

"When I shall return, we will continue our discussion concerning what will be expected of you."

With that, Severus stepped into the green flames. Destination: Malfoy Manor.

**Please VOTE who you want the father of Harry's baby to be. I need to know in order to write the next chapter. Thanks guys! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you guys for the feedback. It's greatly appreciated! Since many of you expressed wanting Severus as the child's father (both privately and in reviews), I will be taking the story in that direction. **

Chapter 6

Awaiting Severus's arrival was Lucius, Voldemort's right-hand. The wizard was alone, his master expecting their presence in the board room. After deep discussion with the Dark Lord late into the past night, the Malfoy was exhausted. High demands have been placed upon him, too many plans divulged to him.

Cane tightly gripped in his grasp, he was becoming impatient. _Bloody Hell! What's taking Severus? _As if right on cue, the other highly ranked Death Eater appeared in the flames. Lucius stepped back from the grate, allowing the man into the room. Giving him a curt nod, the Potions Master followed in Lucius's wake. The two feared wizards by many, made their way to their master, long black robes billowing behind them.

0o0o0

Upon returning to Malfoy Manor in the early morning, Voldemort took refuge in the board room. Last night's lengthy conversation with Lucius made him more impatient to begin moving his plans forward. He would have required Severus to join them, but Voldemort had wanted Lucius's full support and understanding prior to divulging anything with his other follower. Especially, since his plans directly involved said Potions Master. No, he needed an ally in helping direct Severus with his order.

Hearing footsteps approach from outside the board room, Voldemort idly waved his wand. The door opened, granting his two most favored followers entry.

Voldemort gestured to the chairs. "Please."

Knowing full well that was an order kindly spoken, the men swiftly took their seats. Lucius, sitting beside the Dark Lord and Severus, across from the two. Severus remained passive, forcing his mind to remain clear from his Lord's penetration. It is imperative for his master to remain ignorant of his looming interested in Potter as well as his knowledge of the boy being given his newly developed conception potion. Silence settles between the three wizards, Voldemort obviously surveying Severus. After much time trying to force his way into his follower's mind, the Dark Lord moved on.

"You are particularly skilled in occlumency, Severus, as I am in no doubt you are aware of."

Briefly, Severus casted his head down. "Thank you, my Lord."

Ruby eyes glinted before their owner continued.

"I have called you to discuss the possession that now resides with you at Hogwarts. How is the boy adjusting?"

The previous professor locks eyes with his Lord. This action is not out of spite, but rather the assumption he may begin to speak freely. However, fully aware he, nor anyone else, will ever be consider the Dark Lord's equal.

"Your consideration for my gift is greatly appreciated, my Lord. The first two days, the boy was unconscious, healing from his inflicted wounds. Upon waking, I have required order, respect. I haven't had much time with Potter, but will provide him with my rules and regulations following our meeting here…"

Quietly listening to Severus, Lucius turned to look at his master. He couldn't decipher his Lord's mood. During their conversation last night, the Dark Lord had mentioned his desire to hear of the boys reaction to his ownership. Severus had not relayed any information regarding such topic. Taking it upon himself to please his Lord, Lucius interrupted.

"What was Potter's response to being placed in servitude?"

Severus's reply to his master abruptly ceased. Turning slightly in his chair, the wizard calmly addressed Lucius's outburst.

"As you have seen with his presence here, Potter has remained submissive. His willpower has considerably diminished. It will not be a difficult task for him to be controlled."

Telling them this, Severus felt sick to his stomach. How could he just cast aside what the boy had once stood for, what was once a large part of his identity? And here he was, unable to consider and provide his master and colleague with the many undiscovered attributes the boy possessed. But, this is what they wanted, what they expected of him to share.

"Good. I had hoped for this, Severus." Voldemort stated. He then continued, not once lifting his gaze from the Potions Master.

"Now, I am providing you with information that shall, for this moment, stay confidential. Do you understand?"

Severus nodded.

Voldemort smirked. He rather enjoyed his subjects unquestioned obedience. "There is a reason I have placed the boy into your specific care. This being said, I am requiring a great deal from you, Severus."

Severus was listening intently. For the past few days, he has been creating his own hypothesis as to why the Dark Lord gave Potter the potion. Finally, he may finally get confirmation that it is to do with creating heir.

"You have been a loyal follower of mine, Severus. You have exceeded in the many tasks I have placed before you. In relation to you, as a wizard, you have gained mastery in the potions field, are highly skilled in occlumency among many others, and are trustworthy. Yes, I have complete trust in you."

Dumbfounded, Severus willed himself to keep a straight face. Never had he thought his master would list out what he most admired in him. Just as shocked as Severus, Lucius remained quiet. He had known the Dark Lord was seeking Severus's involvement, but it hurt not having been chosen himself.

"Thank you, my Lord." Severus replied.

Voldemort leaned forward in his chair, eyes never wavering from his follower. "Do not thank me by my mere observations of you, Severus. You shall thank me by the honor of providing me with an offspring. An heir."

Severus didn't understand. He was already acknowledge in the creation of the conception potion.

"My Lord, I was honored to create the potion."

The Dark Lord smirked, turning to the quiet wizard at his side.

"Lucius, he misunderstands me."

Taking his cue, Lucius steps into the conversation.

"Severus, what our Lord means is that you will _father_ his heir."

The Professor's mind began to race. What could this mean? He had to ask.

"But the potion was given to Potter. You aren't suggesting…"

"How observant you are, Severus." Voldemort stated. "I wouldn't have thought any differently since you are the creator of the potion. But yes, I am not suggesting, but ordering you to impregnate the boy."

Thick silence fell after Voldemort's last words. The situation became utterly real in that moment.

"Severus, I will let you adjust to this new information. Once the time is near, I will ask you to carry out what is expected of you."

With that, Voldemort stood. As he walked to the door, Lucius began to follow. The two wizards left, leaving Severus with the ever looming burden of the past discussion. Deciding to get back to the boy, the man stood, pushing his chair back at the table before departing. One thought just kept running through his head.

_I am to impregnate Potter._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Now, repeat them back to me."

Severus and Harry were sitting in the living room. In-between the two wizards, two cups of tea rested on a small table, the steam emanating from them apparent in the cold room. It was evening, though no one living in the depths of Hogwarts would be able to tell a difference as there are no windows in the dungeons.

Sighing tiredly, Harry recited the rules that which the Potions Master has just instituted.

"I am not to leave your quarters unless otherwise supervised by you or with your consent. I will complete all household chores during the day and prepare meals for your arrival. In no way, am I to enter your lab. When we are alone, I can call you Severus, but in the company of others, I am to refer to you as 'Sir' or 'Master', and if I am to break any rules or not follow commands, I will face the consequence as chosen by you."

When Harry's voice trailed off and his gaze dropped to the two untouched cups of tea, Severus nodded his approval. The boy though seemingly tired and out of sorts, has remained attentive throughout his entire lecture. He couldn't blame Potter for his foul mood at the moment. He was feeling the exact same way. And who wouldn't after being told he was to bed the Chosen One and that their child was to be the Dark Lord's heir? It's as though everything happening these past few days seem to just blur together, as though reality has collapsed in upon itself.

Coming back to review Potter's terms as his resident (or to his colleagues, his property) , Severus tried to contain his emotions. It would not be in his best interest to give the Gryffindor any hope is his current situation. He needed to secure order, not allow himself to get caught up in emotional ties that have begun to blossom for the boy. No, presenting a firm front was the best option at the moment. The Dark Lord wants them to mate for the soul purpose of creating an heir. He could not fathom his Lord allowing anything more than that aspect of a relationship. Better to avoid any more connections than what is absolutely necessary.

0o0o0

Harry paced within his new room, courtesy of his Master's magical capabilities. The thought is odd. He now has a 'Master'. How everything has changed in a sudden instant. What he would not give to have his wand back within his grasp. He felt empty, hallow inside. This was not the person he once recognized himself as. No, this wizard walking back and forth was a lost soul, someone with no ties left in the world. Dumbledore was dead. His Godfather deceased as well as hundreds more. He couldn't help but feel, it was all his fault. And it was…

The Lost War is one that's tale will carry on throughout generations. The wizards present, who fought alongside him, alongside the light, will forever be remembered. It was a mass killing, but it did not start that way, nor did it have to end that way. But it did. It did because of him, the Boy Who Lived. Closing his eyes, Harry played out the battle in his mind, as he has so done every day since.

_From the beginning, Hogwarts was strong. Their force against Voldemort's troops heavily outnumbered their enemy. The battle could be pictured as a sea of lights cascading throughout the grey, sullen sky. Curses of all colors soaring and crashing amongst the many moving bodies on the field. For hours the battle played out, neither side giving into their enemies will. That didn't last forever, though. _

_Looking at the scene play out, he watched his past self make the one mistake he will never forgive himself for. Dumbledore had died, but that was not the factor that brought him to his lowest point. Sirius. Lying at his feet, body lost of any sign of life, his Godfather lay in his place. Feet away, Voldemort's wand was still directed at him. The killing curse meant for him, instead hit his only true family member. Sirius stepped in front of the bright green cast, sacrificing himself for him._

_He continued to watch the memory. It never becomes hazy, always clear as day. His past self screams in anger, in loss. His wand is tightly clenched, pointing at the snakelike wizard who has ruined thousands of lives. His voice booms over the battle around the two, everyone else still busily fighting their own battles._

"_Expelliarmus!"_

_In shock, or it could have been any number of other things, Voldemort just stood in place, not deflecting the spell. His wand soared out of his hand, landing between the two leaders of both sides. Then, there was silence. The two, just watching one another as the attention from all sides of the battle were upon them. And this was his chance. The one moment to finish it all, to kill the man once known as Tom Riddle. But he couldn't. He still housed a horcrux inside of himself. Then, Voldemort smiled. _

Harry grabbed at his outgrown hair, pulling at it will all his strength. His voice, a strangled yell from the self-inflicted pain.

"Get out of my head!"

Dropping to his knees, the Gryffindor gasped for breath, for air. His chest was constricting. Flashing through his half-lidded eyes was the sick smile of Voldemort's. Those twisted features the boy will never be able to forget. The image etched within his memory.

Hearing cries and a thud coming from Potter's bedroom, Severus hastily made his way there. Walking into the bare room that housed a twin bed and bare chest of drawers, he easily spotted the boy crouched on the floor. Knees and elbows on the ground with his head clenched within his white hands, Potter rocked back and forth. His cries had softened to mere whimpers. Forcing himself not to touch the boy, Severus remained in the doorway. As he spoke, his tone was soft, but forced it to convey the lack of emotion.

"Go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning."

He watched as his resident slowly and shakily uncurled himself, standing up. As Potter bowed his head slightly, the Death Eater quickly left. The image of Potter's blotchy and tear stricken face newly imprinted in his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_Severus's core is ablaze as he continuously thrusts into the body that lays beneath him. Lustful fulfillment seeps across his face as sexual stimulation tingles throughout every crevice of his body. He is so close…only a few more thrusts into the tightly warm cavern until he reaches release. _

_He presses Harry harder against the mattress as he sensually pounds into him. Gasps and moans of pleasure leave the boy's plump pink lips as Severus fills him. They keep eye contact throughout the entire intimate act, never once breaking it. When he is at the edge of climaxing, Severus leans forward, capturing Harry's lips. As the boy moans into him, Severus pushes his tongue past Harry's parted lips. He intertwines his tongue with the other as he expertly explores the boys mouth. Mouths still eagerly pressed together, Severus gives one last thrust into Harry before exploding within him, his shuddering sending tremors throughout his entire body._

Grunting as he pumps his hips into the mattress beneath him, Severus reaches his climax. Sweat covered but deeply relaxed, he turns onto his back, catching his breath. All of his dreams during the night revolved around his new charge that rests right down the small hallway. He should feel ashamed about getting off on his once student, but at the moment, he can only bask in the aftereffects of the extremely vivid dream. He can't help but become eager for the upcoming consummation with Potter. Though, whenever his Lord requires that, is still however, unknown.

As the Potions Master slowly comes down from his high, he hears shuffling beyond his closed bedroom door. Instinct taking over, he hastily grabs his wand and cleans the wet residue on his boxers as he makes his way out of bed and quietly to his door. Opening it slightly, he peers out. At first glance, he notices the candles hung throughout the hallway are lit. Opening the door ever more slightly, he slowly walks into the vacant hallway, wand still outstretched in hand. Just as he takes another step forward, a crashing sound breaks the silence.

Severus quickly strides to where the noise emanates from. As he hastily reaches the small kitchen, he runs into the table, hitting his toes hard against its leg. Swearing under his breath, he takes a step back, clutching the pain stricken toe.

A startled voice speaks. "Are you alright, Severus?"

Harry stands near an open cabinet, his back halfway bent over in order to retrieve the pan that had loudly crashed to the floor. Innocent, uncertain wide eyes stare at him in utter surprise. His shoulder length hair is untidy and ruffled from sleep, but a new set of robes that Severus supplied him with, rests over his body. Taking in Potter's appearance, Severus looks down at himself. Signing at the realization he is clad in only his underwear, he grunts in reply before turning back to his room to change into more appropriate attire. He couldn't help but think, _This is going to be a long day…_

0o0o0

Remus Lupin paces in his cell. None of his other counterparts reside in it with him. He is placed alone, across from the other lined cells that contain the remainder of his comrades. The only explanation he has come up with concerning his isolation is that the full moon is approaching. Voldemort seems to think it unwise for arbitrary blood loss that is not caused by his own hands.

"Lupin, stop pacing. You're going to burn a hole through the ground."

Remus takes a few steps to the bars that keep him prisoner. He grasps them as he peers out into the darkness, just barely making out the silhouette of Neville. The boy has grown considerably fast over the last five years. War does that to people.

"Sorry. I thought you all were asleep." He whispers back, not wanting to attract the guards attention or wake his comrades.

Lupin hears a sigh before Neville's softly speaks again. "I was… on and off." He pauses before continuing. "I- I just can't stop thinking about Harry. What do you think is happening to him?"

This whole time in captivity, the werewolf's focus has solely been on getting out of the cells and what had happened to their leader. Hearing Neville bring to surface his same worry seemed to make their situation even more dire.

Without voicing his suspicions that Harry may very well be dead, Lupin replied. "I could not possibly tell you."

0o0o0

Harry spends the day fulfilling the list of chores his 'Master' has given him. Except for the scrubbing and clanking sounds from cleaning, silence accompanied him throughout the day. After sitting down with Severus for breakfast, he had yet run into him. _Must be working in his _lab, Harry thought. It seems unfortunate that the one area Harry is restricted from entering is precisely where Severus spends most of his time. Yes, the boy has not fully accepted his role in this new world, but he can't help but to miss the company of another, even if it happened to be his older Potions Professor.

Shaking away the eagerness of seeing his captor, Harry walks over to a large canvas mounted on the stone wall. The painting has many shades of greens and blues swirling and blending with one another, capturing the essence of a spring valley. The soft, green rolling hills are touched by the pure light sky. It makes him miss the outdoors, his rebel camp that has now been burned down to ashes.

Lost in dreaming of simpler times before Voldemort had risen and taken power, Harry is unaware of the dark figure observing him from behind. Severus stands in the shadows, his back pressed against the far wall of the living room. He is quiet, appreciating the contours of the Gryffindor's back, the sway of his hips as he unintentionally shifts his weight.

Pure instinct overcoming him, Severus moves forward. Still unnoticed, he stands next to Harry, eyeing the painting that was a birthday gift from the Malfoy's. The two wizards are close to one another, neither speaking. As Harry feels warmth radiating near his left side, he turns, accidently brushing his hand against Severus's. His breath catches as his skin tingles from the contact. For a moment, he looks up into Severus's face. And for a fleeting second, he makes out a reassuring glint flash in the Potions Master's eyes.

Though he is deemed Severus's property, the Death Eater has yet done anything to suggest malicious intent. _Maybe, I can learn to trust him_, Harry thinks, before giving his old Professor a small smile.


End file.
